The Soldier From Tomorrow
by Center of the Galaxy
Summary: "The solution is simple," Castiel told him, crossing across the cramped motel room with a purposeful stride. Meeting the two Winchester's gazes, he continued, "I'll go to the past, protect Sam and stop Anna." *AU The Song Remains the Same, hurt!Sam, Sam/Castiel bonding, teen!Sam*
1. Plans

_**Author's Note:**_ _I'm back! After relaxing after what was the huge undertaking known as the "3_ _rd_ _Annual 25 Days of Hurt!Sam" I'm ready to get back to work. And the best way to kick that off is to have some hurt!Sam goodness. So, this will be an AU of "The Song Remains the Same" and will be a relatively short story, like 4 or 5 chapters. Please enjoy!_

* * *

" _I don't know where I'm goin'_

 _I think I'm out of my mind_

 _Thinking about time."_

— _Hootie and the Blowfish, "Time"_

* * *

 _The answer is still no, because Sam is my friend._

Anna shook her head, disgusted.

She'd pinned all of her hopes on Castiel, trusting that the angel would see the reason behind her plan. Surely, all of humanity was worth more than just one human's life. Yet, the determined glint that entered the angel's cerulean eyes convinced her otherwise. Castiel had allowed emotions cloud his judgment. He couldn't be trusted and now he would redouble his efforts to keep Sam safe. Even if she could find him—which was nearly impossible thanks to the markings on his ribs—there was no way Castiel would leave Sam defenseless.

She needed a new plan and fast.

With every second that ticked by, the Earth was hurtling closer to the apocalypse. She couldn't allow that to happen. She needed to gather her strength and find some allies like—

"But Dean—" Her voice faded away immediately. Even if she could enter Dean's dream and convince him to meet her, he would never see her point of view. She knew how much he cared for his brother, much to the world's detriment. What's more, she was sure Castiel was on his way to warn the eldest Winchester brother right now. She didn't have time to risk waiting and recruiting other angels.

Heaven had entrusted this task to her—she had to find a way to fulfill it.

But how?

A gentle breeze blew through her hair, carrying a voice to her ears.

"Could you believe that crap?" A teenage girl growled into her phone as she sat on a park bench. "I mean, he's a time traveler? Couldn't he just travel back in time to fix the whole thing before it even began?"

Anna had never had witnessed a sign from her Father before, but in that moment, she knew it was His will guiding her to this solution. She would go back and destroy Sam before he could reach this point. Ideally, if she had the power, she'd go back to destroy Mary Winchester before she could ever conceive Sam, but she was weak. Her grace wasn't as strong to guarantee her a safe trip that far into the past.

She'd pick another time—another moment where Sam was vulnerable—and then she'd extinguish him.

It was that simple.

* * *

"So, Anna wants to kill me?" Sam asked softly.

Dean glanced over at his little brother sitting on the edge of the bed. Sam was taking this surprisingly in stride ever since Castiel arrived with the news that the rogue angel was out for his blood. In fact, if anything, the youngest Winchester was calmer and more collected than even Dean was in this moment.

"It would appear so." Castiel muttered.

"Well," Sam ran a hand through his hair, biting his lower lip, before sighing. "Is it a good plan?"

"C'mon Sam—" Dean began to shake his head, voice drawn and tight.

"No." The angel interjected immediately, his gaze locked on Sam's. "No, it is a bad plan."

Sam huffed out a dark chuckle, grimacing somewhat as he glanced up at his brother.

"Dean—"

"You heard him." Dean interjected sharply. "It's not going to happen."

Then, in a softer voice, Sam added, "But's it's Anna—"

"She wants to kill you." Dean stated sharply. "The Anna we knew . . . this isn't her."

"Indeed." Castiel replied, crossing to Sam and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We will find another way to stop the Apocalypse." A small smile graced the angel's lips. "You two taught me that there is always another way."

"Damn right, there is." Dean grinned, beaming as he faced the two of them. "So, let's just figure out what we're going to do next, okay?"

It took Sam awhile to answer but when he finally does, it's with a soft smile on his lips, "Yeah, okay."

And so they do what they do best—they get to work.

* * *

— _In the past_

Sam Winchester knew only two things in absolute certainty.

One, his father was committed to being a hunter and as such, expected both of his sons to follow this path and two, he could not allow himself to be sucked into this lifestyle. So, slowly, but surely, Sam had been gathering supplies, preparing for his last resort—running away.

That's what he had done, escaped from Dean's careful eye and now he found himself in Flagstaff, Arizona, baking under the warm sun and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do next.

Dean must be sick with worry or boiling over with anger, the youngest Winchester notes with a grimace. Probably a bit of both, but Sam had tried his best to convey to his older brother that he wasn't happy with his life, but Dean hadn't understood.

What other choice did Sam have? Running away was really his last resort. Now, he would have to find somewhere to stay and figure out his next move.

"Excuse me." A pale woman with fiery red hair brushed past him, her hazel eyes piercing him as she moved past. It was almost as if she knew him from somewhere, that was how intensely she was staring at him, but then, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd of people on their way to work.

"Weird." Sam muttered, but then forced himself to refocus. He needed to find himself somewhere to stay.

That had to come first.

* * *

Anna felt ill, so ill that she could practically collapse on the ground before her. Time travel truly did take a toll on angels, but even as she forced herself to keep walking past the clueless humans that surrounded her, she couldn't help but beam.

She had Sam Winchester in her sights.

He was young here, probably 13 or 14 which would make her job easy. As soon as she recovered fully, she would find him and then kill him. She would make sure there wasn't a trace of him to resurrect. She would save the world and earn the respect of Heaven.

But more importantly, she'd be atoning for her past mistakes.

So, come tomorrow, Sam Winchester would be dead.

Anna would make sure of it.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Next chapter, Anna makes a move, Sam suffers the consequences of it in the present and Castiel makes a decision. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!_


	2. Shock

_**Author's Note:**_ _Sorry for the long delay in between chapters! I was trying to think of the overall arc for this story and now I'm back. Who's ready for some hurt!Sam goodness?_

* * *

" _Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting."_

― _Haruki Murakami_

* * *

— _In the past_

The matron at the motel counter eyed him up and down, and then glanced back at his impeccably made fake I.D.

"How old did you say you are?" She questioned, voice tight with some sort of indignation.

"I'm old enough to get a room." Sam retorts and it's not like she can turn him away. He has the money for at least one night. One night to regroup and put his head on straight, one night to figure out the next step of his plan—whether that means he goes back to his big brother or not, he's still trying to figure that out.

"You going to do anything illegal?" The woman questions sharply and Sam quickly shakes his head.

"No ma'am."

"One night then." Reaching behind her, she pulls a key off the rack behind her. Handing it to him, she glares. "Just one night."

"Of course." He takes the key and his fake I.D. and then quickly retreats out of the lobby. Glancing down at his number, he quickly makes his way down the twisting rows of rooms and towards his own. He's splurged a little bit—the rooms are actually inside a building than outside—and as he closes the door behind him and plops on the fluffy—not hard as a rock, like before—mattress he can't help the smile that crosses his lips.

He's out.

He's free.

He's by himself—

Part of him feels ashamed and even mortified by his own joy at being away from the controlling grip of his father and his incessant training. When their father finds out—and he will find out; no way Dean could hide this from him—John will be furious. Dean will be disappointed. Sam will be dragged back to that charade of a life and he'll have to take part in something he wants no part of.

He can't go back.

But here, as he glances around the coolly decorated room, he can't help but feel alone. He is alone and if he stays on this path, if he does not go back, he'll spend the rest of his life running from the people he cares about, his only family. Can he really do that? Can he be apart from Dean or John or heck, even Bobby? Could he really choose to just walk away from it all?

There's a knock on his door.

"Room service." A voice chirps and immediately Sam is wary.

"I didn't order any." He raises his voice a little as he reaches for his gun—yeah, the matron in the lobby would be pleased to see that—and moves to check out whoever it is through the peephole.

He doesn't get that far though.

Without any warning, the door bursts open and the same red headed woman from earlier storms into his room. With a smirk, she regards him, her eyes piercing him like ice.

"Hello Sam." She purrs as she shuts the door behind her.

He points the gun at her chest, ready to shoot if he needs to.

The woman isn't fazed. She steps closer, her chest coming to touch the barrel of his gun. Sensing his discomfort, she tosses her head back and laughs, "You can't do it, can you?"

He backs away from her instead.

"Who the hell are you?" He growls, trying to summon up some of that courage that Dean has in spades. He couldn't let this woman see how scared he really is. He has to be in the control of the situation—

A sharp pain jolts him back in reality. Blood drips from his hand and he quickly realizes that she disarmed him and somehow injured him with just the flick of her wrist. His whole hand is bleeding, the blood oozing down his arm and immediately, he tries to apply pressure, hearing familiar instructions about stopping blood flow swarming in his mind.

"What are you?" He tries again and the woman grins.

"Don't worry, Sam," She beams, like the cat that caught the canary. "Heaven has a plan for you."

And she takes another step towards him.

* * *

— _In the present_

"Easy, just take it easy," Dean soothes as he wraps a bandage around his brother's bleeding hand—a hand that was fine not even fifteen seconds ago and then just spontaneously started bleeding. Dean is doing his best not to panic, but as he watches the blood soak the bandage, his attempts at remaining calm are slowly failing. He tightens the bandage and then meet's his brother's wide-eyed gaze, "Sam, you good?"

Sam, for his part, is pale, almost as pale as he was in Cold Oak and damn it all, if that doesn't scare Dean down to his very core. His brother is breathing though—that's what the eldest Winchester needs to focus on. He hasn't lost too much blood, but for some reason, the bleeding just won't stop.

"Dean." Sam's voice is faint and light, full of fear, a tone Dean hasn't heard since his brother was a little kid and had nightmares that required him to sleep in Dean's bed until the imaginary monsters had left his mind.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean soothes, rubbing circles on his wrist, something he first picked up from Bobby so many years ago. He applies more pressure and after a few minutes have passed, he lifts up to see if the bleeding has stopped.

It hasn't.

"It's not clotting." Sam murmurs, and it figures, even through the haze of blood loss, his brother's big brain is still working.

"It will, Sam."

It better because if it doesn't, no ER in the world will be able to do Sam any good.

"Let me see the wound." Castiel demands, quickly pushing Dean out of the way. He grabs Sam's injured hand and unwraps the bandage.

"Cas—!" Dean interjects sharply, grimacing as the blood continues to gush.

"This wound . . . it will not heal." The angel lets Sam's hand go gently before waving his hand. Some of his grace flares up and Dean can see some of the color swim back into Sam's visage. Catching Dean's hopeful gaze, the angel continues, "This is only a temporary fix."

"Thanks, Cas." Sam breathes, relaxing somewhat.

"What do you mean, a temporary fix?" Dean growls, anger easier to process than fear and he hates not being able to help his brother, hates feeling useless, hates being forced to stand by the sidelines.

"I believe Anna has gone into the past to try and eliminate Sam."

Dean blinks, lost for words.

"What?" Sam finally asks.

The angel sighs, "Anna knew it would be impossible for her to eliminate Sam while you and I are here. Thus, she picked another era, one where Sam would be defenseless."

Sam gasps, shuddering and immediately, Dean is there, trying to ease his apparent distress.

"What, Sammy? What is it?"

"Flagstaff." Sam grinds out, rubbing his temple with his uninjured hand. "I remember . . . she's in Flagstaff with me."

Castiel ducks his head, "It is worse than I thought. I have to fix this, get Sam to safety—"

"Where?" Dean shouts. "In the past? Cas, just what the fuck is going on—?"

The angel kneels down to face Sam, checking the injury once more with a cursory glance. It's bleeding again, slowly this time, but the frown that tugs down Castiel's lips is enough for Dean to know that this is whole situation is clearly spiraling out of his control.

"It's simple," Castiel states quite calmly, turning to face Dean, "I will go into the past and protect Sam. I will eliminate Anna before she can destroy Sam in the past. It is the only way to resolve this situation."

"No, I should go with you—" Dean begins to protest.

"No," Castiel interjects sharply, "Someone needs to stay with Sam. Not to mention that if you came in contact with your past self, there would be severe repercussions.

Sam's eyes flutter shut and then back open. His pallor is that of a ghost and it's clear that shock is setting in. His little brother doesn't have time for them to debate. He needs someone to take action.

"Okay," Dean relents, quickly tacking on, "If you're sure."

"I need to prepare a few things to confirm when she is, but as soon as I do that, I will leave."

"Wait," Sam whispers, his eyes open once more, "Will you be okay?"

"I will be fine—" Castiel assures him quickly, though Dean knows that's a lie. How much energy would the rogue angel be using to go back in time? Would he have enough grace to even survive?

"Cas—"

"I will be fine." Castiel reiterates, sensing Dean's apparent distress. He rewards his friend with a rare smile before disappearing in a flutter of wings.

Dean doesn't spare another moment thinking about what could possibly happen to the angel. Coming to sit next to his brother, he tightens the bandage and asks, "Sam, you with me?"

"Yeah." Sam slurs.

"Just hang on."

"M'fine, D'n." The syllables all collide.

Dean's never felt so useless before, but all he can do is wait.

Wait and hope.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Next chapter, Castiel goes into the past! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!_


End file.
